


The Shirt

by ibexdracula



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Terrible 90s clothes, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibexdracula/pseuds/ibexdracula
Summary: Holtz finds a photo of Erin from college, and it turns out that Erin didn't manage to escape the terrible fashions of the 90s.





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to j, who started the original idea, was the first person to read this, and is the best cheerleader i could ever ask for

“Oh my god, babe, you’re so  _ cute _ here!”

Holtzmann and Erin were sat on the floor beside their bed. They - or rather, Erin - had been attempting to clean out some old stuff, but Holtz had interrupted the process by finding a box of old photos and insisting on going through them all.

Erin smiled fondly at the old photo from over Holtz’s shoulder. “Okay I’ll give you that one, that one’s actually pretty cute. That was mine and Abby’s favourite study spot at college, I think that was taken just before our first year exams.” 

Holtz flipped to the next photo and snorted, immediately moving to hide the stack of photos from Erin’s view. Eyes widening, Erin made a grab for them. Holtz pulled them away breaking down into giggles as she scrambled out of reach.

“Holtz. Holtz, what’s that photo? Holtz, show me!”

“Oh ho ho noooo, this is  _ too good _ , if I give this to you you’ll never let me see this again and this is GOLD.”

“Holtz! Show me!”

“Nooooooo! You’ll probably burn it!”

“Ugh, I promise I won’t destroy it if you show me.”

“I’ll take that deal! But babe, honey, sweetie pie, light of my life, I really have to ask: just  _ what _ were you thinking when you bought this monstrosity of a shirt?”

Holtz flipped the photo around, revealing a slightly out-of-focus picture of an early-twenties Erin, wearing a baggy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It was navy blue, but covered in multicoloured splodges: red, orange, green, pink, everything. It was shapeless, the shoulders were kinda poofy, and it came down to just above young-Erin’s knees. It was spectacularly awful.

As soon as Erin saw it, she blushed bright red, all the way from her chin to the roots of her hair.

“I- it- I- it was  _ fashionable _ then, okay?! You’re too young to remember!”

“Babe, that has never been fashionable in any decade.”

“It was the nineties! Everything was fashionable in the nineties!”

Holtz laughed again, and then abruptly stopped, her mouth falling open.

“What?” said Erin, visibly alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god babe. Tell me you still have the shirt.”

“Holtzmann! No! Of course not. That monstrosity probably got lost when I left college. Jeez.”

“Aww.” Holtz pouted, shoulders dropping. “That would’ve been an amazing reenactment.”

Taking advantage of her distraction, Erin grabbed the stack of photos out of Holtz’s hands, quickly reorganising them back into chronological order before placing them in the box and then moving the box out of Holtz’s reach.

“Ha. Now, no more embarrassing-Erin photos for you today. If you’re not gonna help me in here, go make yourself useful and order a pizza or something.”

“Aw, alright. Pepperoni good?”

Erin nodded, and Holtz leant over and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before heading out of the room, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she went.

 

* * *

 

Two months later, the photo incident had all but been forgotten about. Erin’s mom had rung her, and, Erin unable to find another excuse, she’d persuaded the two of them to come for a visit. Currently, they were all sat in the living room, awkwardly sipping tea. Erin and Holtz were squished together on a small and ugly sofa, opposite Erin’s parents.

They were all very quiet.

Breaking the silence, Erin’s dad asked, “So, Jillian dear, how’s the thingmabob you were working on last time going? You were explaining it to me last time you were here. It was a, um, nuclear screwy thing. You know what I’m talking about, it had wires and pipes, that sort of thing.”

Holtz looked at him blankly. “Um. Could you...be more specific?”

“Oh you know, you said it was something to do with pro-trons?”

“I-”

“Dad,” Erin interrupted, “that basically describes everything Holtz makes. And she was probably done with it about three days after we last saw you, she’s very good at what she does.”

“Oh, no, of course, I wasn’t suggesting she wouldn’t be done, I just. Um. Yes.”

The room lapsed back into uncomfortable quiet. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked. Erin’s mom sniffed slightly and shifted in her seat.

“Oh, look at the time-”

“We should probably be going-”

As if on cue, both Erin and Holtz stood up at the same time. But as they did, Erin’s sleeve got caught on one of the tassels hanging off the arm of the sofa, unbalancing her enough that her arm shot out to grab her wife’s elbow. Unfortunately, this happened to be the elbow that was connected to the hand that was holding Holtz’s cup of tea. Which proceeded to go all over Holtz.

“Oh crap.”

“Oh no, shit- I mean shoot, Holtz, I’m sorry. Is that hot? Are you hurt?” Erin pressed her hand against the large and growing stain over Holtz’s front.

“No, Erin, don’t worry about it. It had cooled down enough to be okay.”

“Oh good. Um. Let me just grab a towel or something from the kitchen.”

Holtz pulled the shirt from her stomach, where the soaked material had stuck to her. “Ah, I think this might be beyond the realm of towels. Do you happen to have a spare shirt or something?”

“Erin, dear.” Erin’s mom piped up from the corner where she’d been silently watching the whole scene. “Don’t you still have some things left in your old room? You and Jillian aren’t too different in size, that should do.”

Erin looked back at Holtz, who gave a small shrug.

Unable to think of another alternative, Erin acquiesced. “Um, I guess so, yeah. Come on, I’ll show you where my old closet is.”

Tugging Holtz out of the room and up the stairs by her elbow, Erin steered Holtz into her childhood room.

As soon as the couple were out of earshot, Holtz exclaimed, “Oh man, I’m almost glad I got tea all over my shirt. It’s so awkward in there!”

“I know! Why did my dad bring up work, I mean really. He knows nothing about engineering! And still neither of them believe in ghosts!”

“I really don’t know. Yeesh. We should definitely head home after I’m sorted here.”

“Yeah. Okay, pass me your shirt and I’ll find a carrier bag to put it in. The closet’s in that corner, fish around and find something from there. We shouldn’t be too long until we’re home and you can change again.”

“Okay.”

Holtz unbuttoned her shirt quickly and pulled it off, handing it over to Erin, before opening up the closet door and rifling through its contents.

“Heh, is this the closet you were in as a teenager?”

“Gay joke, classy. Is that the best you could come up with?”

“Well excuse me! I’m a bit distracted by all the JTT posters that are staring down at me.”

“I’ll be downstairs when you’ve found a shirt, you dork.”

 

* * *

 

"Wait, is that-? Oh my god, it  _is_."

 

* * *

 

Shortly afterwards, Erin was back in the uncomfortably silent living room, finishing up the last dregs of her now-cold tea, when she heard several loud thumps from above that was Holtz bounding down the stairs. Holtzmann skidded into the room, a shit-eating grin on her face.

Erin choked on her tea, spraying the carpet in front of her.

Holtz was wearing the shirt. The awful one from the photo. How on earth had she even found it?

“So, thank you for the tea, Mr and Mrs Gilbert, but we really must be going now. Got lots of paperwork to catch up on for the mayor! Shall we, wife of mine?” Holtz gestured towards the front door.

Quickly recovering, Erin stood at the same time as her parents, hugging them both quickly and giving Holtz evils over her mom’s shoulder.

“Don’t think I don’t know why you picked that particular shirt,” Erin muttered in Holtz’s ear as she walked past her to head towards the car. “You’re evil.”

“But you still love me!”

 

* * *

 

“We’re home now, you can take the shirt off.”

“Nooo, you’ll burn it!”

“Holtz.”

“...Would you hate me if I said I want to keep it?”

“What?!”

“It’s so comfy! And it’s so bad! I want a memento of the time that my wife wore a shirt this bad.”

“Holtzmann.”

“And it’s part of your history!”

“I- ugh.”

“Ha, you can’t even argue with that.”

“...No. I guess I can’t. Fine, you can keep the shirt. I will forever envy how you can pull off literally any item of clothing. But I will never, ever be recreating that photo for you.”

“Yesss! Ah, you say that now but...you know I’ll wear you down eventually.”

Erin sighed deeply.

 

* * *

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> So ends my first ever fic! Thanks for reading. I'm a very (VERY) long time reader and I've never had the courage or the ideas to write before, so this is a bit terrifying for me. I reckon I've read more than half of all the Holtzbert fics on here, at least, and many of those more than once. Please leave me kudos or a comment! I'd love to know what you think. :)


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